Livid, Cynical and Young: Life as the middle Winchester
by FBIagentoftheLord
Summary: AU: Dean and Sam have a sister, Jane. Shes as cocky as her older brother and as hellbent about getting out of the house as the younger. The series will follow her misadventures as she encounters a young Cas, Crowely and some other faces while also battling her father and the expectations placed on her future.


_**Somewhere in the middle of the US**_

_**September 1999**_

The alarm blared a loud singular tone jolting me from my sleep. I peeled my lids open only after several minutes of horror as I scratched the black liner from yesterday away. Once I did, my retinas were assaulted by the light that had poured into the bedroom. I let out a heavy groan as I sprung from my sheets. My feet hit the cool wood causing a tingle to run up my spine almost persuading me back into bed. I resisted, instead heading to the closet. There I was greeted by an array of tattered multicolored clothing. Lazily, I tugged on a baggy black misfits tee. It fell loosely in my hands when the door burst open, my brother on the other side.

"Janey, ten minutes. Let's go!" He barked, eyebrow cocked in amusement. I could only guess his enjoyment stemmed from the fact that I hadn't showered yet and there would be no time to begin that endeavor.

"Fuck you." I mumbled as the door swung shut again.

_Today is Friday_\- This being my mantra as I dragged the ripped jeans over my thighs. Then came the neon green and blue stripped socks which covered the gap left between the jean cuff and the top of my combat boots. My hair, somehow both frizzed and vaguely greasy, was then put into a haphazard bun, several waved pieces protruding from my skull and falling unto my cheeks.

In the kitchen, Dean hovered over two brown paper bags quickly dropping tin foil wrapped sandwiches in both. He looked up a crooked smile covering his cheeks.

"She lives."

"Barely," I retorted one hand listlessly hanging by my side while the other rubbed my temple. Another sigh left my lungs as I walked over to him.

"Well I've got a date tonight right after work, so it's just you and Sammy for dinner," He produced a clump of bills from his pocket, placing them on the counter "Grab something out, to celebrate the survival of your first week."

I snagged the money as Sam roared from the hallway. His footsteps like cinder blocks crashing on pavement as he dragged his lifeless body into the room. Deep bags hung from his eyes as another yawn forced its way past his lips.

"Another long night?" I inquired already sure of the answer.

"AP Government is killing me."

The three of us grabbed our jackets and trudged out the back door. In the driveway the Impala waited patiently. I had given up calling 'shot gun' once Sam reached six foot, becoming exactly a foot taller than me. Instead, I sat in the back for the ten minute ride to Riverveiw High School.

We were making the best of this normal life. Dad telling us this act only had to go on for a few more months made it more bearable. It became even more bearable for me, specifically, because this was senior year and once I graduated I was done with all of this. Dean was insane for staying after he finished high school, but I wouldn't be caught dead roaming the country to kill ghouls for even a month after this shit was over. Sam sat in the passenger's seat unconscious- head limp as it rolled to either side with the car. Pity overwhelmed my heart for him as well. This was his junior year and he was shaving years off his life in an effort to get into college. A dream our father has told him numerous times to get out of his foolish head.

The car halted to a stop, jolting me out of my daze. Sam's head slammed against the head rest waking him with an expression of fear frozen on his face. Dean let out a chuckle before telling us to get the hell out of his car.

The bell rung out into the open air, hushing the excited conversations of the student body as they filed into the building. Sam and I walked side by side into the main hallway.

"I'll see you at lunch." I called as I stepped into my first class which was also the bane of my existence, Algebra 2.

I took my seat in the very back corner of the class. Seats weren't assigned and all week everyone had roamed around the room but I stayed put, happy in the relatively quiet dim lighted section of the class. Everyone was already seated with notebooks and pencils sitting idly on their desks. I had not so much forgotten my notebook as I made the personal decision that notes would do me no good in the fight for my GPA, so instead I sat there eyes fixed on the blackboard.

Mr. Greene sat at his desk face stuck in the math textbook as he tried to explain something to a student, who'd been optimistic enough to ask a question. The rest of class participated in light conversation and if the last four days had been any kind of representation for what today's lesson plan was the conversations would have to fill up another twenty minutes or so.

Another student hurried into the room, concern fading from his eyes as he noticed Mr. Greene's current situation. He combed the room looking at the available seating before landing on the cluster of seats around me. My heart sunk as he headed over.

Gently he slid into the seat in front of me, placing his plain dark green backpack beside him. From it he pulled out a textbook and pen. My eyes now buried in the white and black speckled desk that my chest leaned against- praying to whatever celestial being would listen for this boy not to try his hand at conversation.

"Hello." His voice is low and filled with grit. I meet the gaze of his sharp blue eyes concluding that no god was listening or maybe watching me squirm was too hilarious to pass up.


End file.
